


Center of Balance

by codewordchamomile (allirox13)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Freeform, Humanstuck, based on a personal headcanon of mine, bluh, idk - Freeform, sadstuck??
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-20
Updated: 2015-02-20
Packaged: 2018-03-09 04:56:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3237122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allirox13/pseuds/codewordchamomile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is Latula Pyrope, and you are sick and tired of people telling you in fake, sympathetic voices, "He's still alive in your memories," or "You are so strong," or "You can get through this." </p><p>He's still alive, but he's not, he's in and out of the hospital and he only knows your name sometimes, and you're squeezing his hand tight and he's staring at you like you've got daisies growing out of your ears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Center of Balance

Your name is Latula Pyrope and you are five years old. You have friends and they are kind and caring, and in the future they will still be there, changed and fractured but still there for you.  
You are in pre-kindergarten on the swings next to Meulin Leijon, who is telling you in an excited, loud, voice about the new boy who is coming to school tomorrow.  
She's already mapped out possible girlfriends for him. 

You are sitting criss-cross applesauce on the floor tinkering with some action figures as you watch a boy with the curliest hair you have ever seen shyly make his way into the classroom. The new boy.  
You decide to give him a friendly wave and he sits next to you.  
From the crayon table, you hear an excited squeal and aggressive scribbling. 

He tells you his name is Mituna.  
You giggle and tell him  
your name is Latula Pyrope.

You practice the name on your tongue. Mituna. Mituna. Mituna.  
He takes an action figure you aren't using and asks if he can play with you. 

You say fine, but only because you asked me nicely.  
He sticks out his tongue and challenges your armor-clad figurine to a duel.  
He's good, but you're better. 

When you walk home, you tell your mother about your new friend.  
You go to bed, letting the name roll off your tongue in a gossamer whisper. Mituna. Mituna. Mituna.

 

Your name is Latula Pyrope and you are in first grade, and it is 11:00 P.M. and your eyes are barely open.  
It is Meenah Peixes' seventh birthday and she invited you, Aranea, Meulin, Porrim, and Damara to a sleepover.  
It's Meenah's turn in Truth or Dare. The corners of her lips curl into a grin and she asks you:  
Truth or Dare?  
You'd say dare, but Meenah's dares SUCK. So you say truth.  
"Do you have a crush on MItuna?"

You think about it for a couple minutes.  
Finally, you tell them "Maybe."  
Of course, to no surprise, the others press you like a defense attorney at cross-examination.  
He is your best friend, you tell them. For now, you add, with a sly wink.

Your name is Latula Pyrope and it's your tenth birthday.  
A heap of new DS games, several decks of Pokemon cards, a GameGrl poster, and a shiny new skateboard bedeck your room.  
You call the Captors, and someone picks up on the fourth ring.  
It's Sollux, the little boy who's Terezi's age. They're not really close, but you enjoy teasing the two mercilessly, to both six-year-olds' embarrassment.  
You ask Sollux if Mituna is home, and immediately, you hear the boy yell,  
"TUNA!!!! IT'S YOUR GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRLFRIEEEEEEEEEEEEEND!"  
Mituna tells Sollux to shut up and snatches the phone.  
He says sorry about my little brother, he's always such a weirdo.  
You say it's okay, but aren't you forgetting something?  
He stumbles out an apology, and mumbles an awkward "happy birthday."  
You brag about your new skateboard and he listens to you rattle on about how pumped you are, how ready you are to learn to shred, ad nauseam.  
He tells you to meet him at the park down the block.  
Your mom drives you and TZ down to the park, and while Terezi plays with an assorted host of stuffed dragons, you run to the smooth pavement Mituna is surfing.  
He dances on the board and he is the most beautiful thing you have ever seen.  
You get on your brand-new board and attempt to echo him.  
What results is a collision that leaves both you and Mituna laughing on the grass.  
"You were okay for the first five seconds," he reassures you.  
He tells you to find your balance. You wobble, your arms outstretched like a teetering scale.  
Balance. Balance. Balance.  
You shift a little to your left, lean right, clench your teeth and...  
Mituna hollers, drinking in the sight of your success.  
Over the next couple of months, you prove yourself to be an excellent student.  
Your fire-red hair billows like a sail as you glide across the asphalt.  
As the wind howls in your ears, you swear you can hear a faint whisper:  
 _i love you latula pyrope_

 

Your name is Latula Pyrope and it's the first day of eighth grade. Your expression brightens when you see Mituna, waving like a madman and pointing to an empty seat next to him.  
Meenah makes a kissy face at you, and the both of them make you erupt in a fit of laughter. 

During the teacher's droning lecture, you feel a tap on your shoulder. A crumpled wad of paper sits on your desk.  
 _you. me. lotr marathon. 2nite. you in? [ ] yes [ ] sure [ ] HELL YES_

You grin, and scrawl your reply, sliding the paper while the teacher's gaze is trained elsewhere.

_soundz rad. ill be there! <3333 >8]_

That night, you have your first kiss. His lips are as soft as honey against yours. Your heart beats faster than a Formula One racer. When you get home, you are walking on air and your sister looks at you as if you've lost your mind.  
Maybe you have. 

The clock on the wall makes countless revolutions while you lie on your back with your phone to your ear.

Your name is Latula Pyrope. You're a junior in high school, and you're dialing the combination lock on your locker so you can grab your wallet for an afternoon snack.  
The lock clicks, and you swing the door open.  
Red and blue confetti spills out of your locker and onto the floor. A little note falls at your feet.  
You shake some confetti off of your shoulder and open the note.

 _im sorry for what i did to your locker,_  
i bet it came as quite a shocker.  
but it gives me the perfect chance:  
please go with me to the winter dance?  
~MT 

A shadow hovers over you. You don't have to turn around to know who's behind your back. 

"Yes." You grin like a madman. "YES!" You whirl around and wrap your arms around Mituna.  
He presses his lips to your forehead.

Your name is Latula Pyrope, and you're helping your sister prepare for her Bat Mitzvah.  
She stumbles over her _munachs_ and garbles her _etnachtas_ , and you do the best you can to teach her the trope.  
You remember your Bat Mitzvah as you watch Terezi give her _D'var Torah._  
At the party, Mituna dances with you throughout the night, and the both of you feel the bass vibrating through your bones.  
During the Hora, Mituna and three of your cousins hoist you up on a chair, and you hold on for dear life as they raise you up.  
" _Hava nagila, hava nagila, hava nagila, v'nismecha..._ "  
Your giddy screams of delight make Mituna throw his head back and laugh.  
You realize that the dance is in exactly once week.

Your name is Latula Pyrope, and Mituna is helping you into his car. His watch indicates that the time is 45 minutes past midnight. Mituna is slightly buzzed, but he's good at acting sober. In the future, you'll wish that the police had changed their mind, and pulled you over.


End file.
